Just a General Warning
by toxic honey
Summary: This fic is all about what can happen when you: a) Sleep b) Underestimate your kids, and possibly more...
1. Greg

Rating: PG  
  
Summary: A warning to sleep-talkers, lab techs and Pearl Jam fans. And people who fall under all three of those categories.  
  
Spoilers: None whatsoever.  
  
Disclaimer: CSI belongs to what's-his-name and thingy.  
  
A/N: As you'll probably gather, I'm bored. Deadly bored. And I also happen to be under the influence of caffeine. Please bear with me - my muse is, as per usual, AWOL.  
  
***  
  
"I am FREEZING." Sara complained, ambling into the break room. Like the rest of the graveyard shift, she was bundled up in scarves and numerous layers of clothing. She immediately noticed the parts of a radiator on the table. Well, they were a little hard to miss. "What's going on?" she demanded, watching Warrick insert a screwdriver into a disassembled part of a radiator. "Fixing the heating." he mumbled. Sara frowned. "I'm not even gonna go there."  
  
With that, she sat down on a chair near Catherine, who was reading a glossy, her feet on the table. Greg was snoozing, regardless of his noisy surroundings, opposite them. 'Aww. He almost looks sweet.', Sara thought.  
  
They sat in silence for a few moments, watching as Warrick finally seemed to have found the root of the problem. Wincing, he pulled a pair of extremely greasy camisole panties out of the radiator. "Eww!" Shrieked Catherine, jumping out of her chair.  
  
This appeared to rouse Greg, but he just shifted, and mumbled, "Banana fritters." in his sleep. Frowning, Catherine sat back down in her chair, the underwear forgotten. "What was that, Greg?" she asked, a smirk replacing her frown. So little Greggo was a sleep-talker. 'This should be fun.', she thought, conjuring up hundreds of humiliating questions to ask him.  
  
But Greg only mumbled in response. "What's that, Greg?" Catherine pushed, smiling wickedly at Sara, and cocking her head at the lab tech. Warrick's interest had been gained, and he stopped messing around with the radiator to listen. "Sara's so pretty." Greg declared, smiling in his sleep.  
  
Catherine giggled; Sara looked shocked. Warrick narrowed his eyes. "Oh is she?"  
  
"Mmm-hmm."  
  
Catherine put her fingers to her lips; grabbed the panties; reached over the table, silent as she could be, and put the panties snugly onto Greg's head.  
  
She then asked her next question. "Greg, what size underwear do you wear?" Even Sara laughed at that, covering her mouth to suppress her giggling. "Hung like a donkey!" Greg yelled, still asleep. That sent the girls into hysterics. Their incessant laughing finally woke the lab tech up.  
  
"What? Where's the fire!?" he yelled, looking about sleepily. Sara wasn't able to control herself.  
  
"There!" she screamed, pointing behind him. He turned around wildly, looking for the flames; the camisoles flapped on his head. Catherine hunched up, unable to breathe properly with her laughter. "I refuse to be treated like this!" Greg said, huffily, as he strode out of the break room.  
  
Even Warrick was chuckling at the sight. At that moment, on his way to the break room to hand out assignments, Grissom spotted the lab tech striding into his lab with woman's underwear on his head.  
  
He rolled his eyes, and began giving out assignments. As his team got up to leave, he stopped them. "Oh, and why does Greg have a pair of panties on his head?" he asked when he was done.  
  
"I was wondering that myself." Sara said, frowning.  
  
"Yeah. He's a weird kid, that one." Agreed Catherine, nodding.  
  
***  
  
Greg was toiling away in his lab, the door open and Pearl Jam thumping from his radio. He noticed the young new coroner from dayshift staring at him from outside his lab. He clicked his tongue, pointed at her, and winked. She gave him an odd look, and stalked off. "Yup. She fancies me." he said, cockily, to himself. 


	2. Catherine

Rating: PG (language)  
  
Summary: A warning to mums who let their kids be brought up by Eddie.  
  
Spoilers: None whatsoever.  
  
Disclaimer: CSI belongs to. Um. The strangest thing; his name's gone right out of my head. Well, at any rate, it's not me who owns the series.  
  
A/N: 'Here we go again', I hear you think. Well then you're right.  
  
***  
  
Looking for Three  
  
Catherine was on her cell phone to the principal of Lindsay's school. To her colleagues, she seemed agitated, running her free hand through her hair and raising her voice. Warrick and Nick caught quite a few sentences from their position by the break room door. 'What do you mean?! My Lindsay's a GOOD GIRL!!' and 'Are you accusing me of being a bad mother?!' The two men daren't go in.  
  
Eventually, Catherine ended the phone call, and, right on que, Nick strolled in. Catherine was pacing up and down, about to tear her hair out. "What's up Cath? You look pretty mad 'bout something." he queried, sitting down and propping his feet up on the table. He sounded very, very false.  
  
Sighing, Catherine began. "Apparently Lindsay let some sheep out in her school." Nick's eyebrows became obscured by his hairline. "No shit?" he grinned, mistakenly. Catherine gave him an evil look, and nodded, banging her head onto the table. "That requires her to have gotten ahold of some sheep, transport them to her school, and all without daddy knowing. Impossible." he shrugged. This time, Catherine shook her head vigorously, replying: "I'm thinking maybe Daddy did know."  
  
Nick knew this was possible. Plausible, at least.  
  
"Don't worry about it. It probably wasn't even Lindsay. Some other kid." Catherine nodded, a faint smile gracing her lips. "I've gotta go pick her up from school." she muttered, getting up. Nick followed, and relayed the story to Warrick, who burst out laughing.  
  
***  
  
It was all over the lab the next day: Catherine Willows' kid set sheep loose in her school. She felt like it was a National Inquirer headline.  
  
But now Catherine knew it could ONLY have been her daughter. Because when she heard that the sheep had been numbered 'One', 'Two', and 'Four', Catherine realised only little Linds could think of that. As far as she knew, the administrators were still looking for Three. 


	3. Bugman & Sara

Rating: PG (language)  
  
Summary: A warning to bugman & Sara.  
  
Spoilers: None whatsoever.  
  
Disclaimer: I would like to issue the following statement to anyone who owns CSI and happens to be reading this. I am not staking a claim on CSI by writing this fic. Not that any of America's intelligentsia stoop to reading fanfic or anything.  
  
A/N: This one is sillier and a whole lot less fresh than the previous two. Oh well.  
  
***  
  
Grissom shook his head vigorously, trying to regain his hearing. The whole world was mute to him. It was like being in a glass bubble: separate from the world. He saw people speaking as they passed his office, but couldn't hear their conversations. He knew the clock on his desk was ticking, but couldn't hear a thing. A message flashed on his computer screen, telling him he had a message, but he didn't hear the chime informing him so.  
  
Suddenly, Sara appeared at the door, saying something. Grissom swore silently, trying desperately to lip-read. She continued, not paying much attention to him.  
  
Unfortunately, Grissom couldn't understand a word she was saying. 'I don't think he understands a word I'm saying.' She repeated her sentence, thinking she had been speaking too quietly. Due to a heavy cold, she was losing her voice. Ever since spending the night in the desert, searching for evidence, she had been sneezing and coughing. Now her voice was rapidly fading.  
  
"I'm off now. See you tomorrow." Sara croaked, the second part of her sentence entirely mutely, as her voice gave in at that moment. Still unable to hear what Sara was saying, Grissom shook his head, "I can't hear you." he explained, very loud because he couldn't hear the volume of his voice.  
  
Sara winced. Unable to speak at all now, she gestured to her throat. Grissom's eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher her actions. "What?" he asked. 'This hearing thing is getting to be a bugger some of the time.' Sara shrugged dramatically, frustrated that she couldn't speak. Assuming Sara would go, Gil went back to his work. Just as Sara was about to leave, Nick appeared at her shoulder, holding his bag and keys.  
  
"Bye Griss." he said, casually. He stood waiting for a reply, but Gil didn't look up. He shrugged it off. "See ya Sara." He said, and Sara tapped her throat. Nick narrowed his eyes, but she didn't elaborate. "What?" This was followed by more intricate hand movements. Nick still didn't understand. "Grissom? What is she on about?" he asked, turning to him. Again, Grissom didn't answer.  
  
Having a brainwave, he stepped forward and waved a hand under his boss' face. Gil looked up. "What?" Nick repeated his question. Grissom called his bluff. "Yes." he said, and went back to his work. Nick turned back to Sara, who pointed to Grissom, then her ear, and then made a 'no' motion with her hands. "You can't hear?" Nick questioned. Sara shook her head.  
  
"No?"  
  
Sara nodded. "Grissom? What's wrong with Sara's hearing?" Asked Nick. Sara again shook her head, but Nick was turned away and didn't see.  
  
When Grissom didn't answer, Nick just said, "Bye Griss. Bye Sara." and left. 


End file.
